The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1887-01-19

Not from an idle passion vain and light,
But in her heart ihere lived firm be ief,
That duty calld and honor urged her flight.
LITTLE by little, as her shattere
nerves could lear it, the truth was re
vealed ts Myra 1t was a sad. sad tria
, the uprooting of her pure domesti
faith, the teariIg asunder of those thou
sand delicate fbers that had so lon
woven, and clurg, and rooted themselve
around the parents who had adopte'
her. Love then she did, now, as i
seemed, more Intensely than ever, bu
there was excitement in her heart,
sort of wild, unsettled feeling, tina
DESTROYED all the sweet faith and tran
guilty of affection. 1t was no longe
the quiet and serene love which ha,
clung around her from infancy, natu
rally and withou, effort, as wild blossom
bud upon a bank where the sunshin
sleeps longest bit something OF unres
and pain mingled with it all.
In the history of her parents sh
found much to excite her imagination
her deep and sorrowful interest.
1t opened upon her with all the vivid
ness of a romance, that kinoled he
fancy, while it panied her to the soul
Then came other thoughts and more
thrilling anxieties.
The beloved one, the man of he
choice, whom she had dreamed of Ell
downing with riches, from which she nov
seemed legally disposs- ssed-how would
he receive the news of ner orphanage-
of her dependent state? Alas, how wer,
all her proud and generous visions
swept away! And yet, did she doubt
his love or his pure disinterestedness
Never for a moment.
Loyal, lofty, and unselfsh as her OWL
pure heart, she knew the beloved ol
| that heart to be. She felt assured thai
his faith to the dowerless orphan would
be kept more sacred than h.s pledge tC
the heiress. Full of this high trust she
wrote to Whitney and told him the
whole.
You sought me" said the letter, sand
loved me as he heiress of great wealth
as the only daughter of a proud and
rich man. Ali at once, as if fash Cl
| lightning had swept across the horizon
of my life, revealing the truth with q
single fiery gleam, | find myself the
orphan of great and good man, whom
| remember only as the shace OF q
vision-and of woman, lovely as she
has been unfortunate-alive still, but
kept from her child by bonds that have
yet proved too strong, even for the
yearnings of maternal love.
81 know that Daniel Clark, my father
was supposed to possess great weali b.
but 1 am told that he died iDsolveDt
and that in his will neither wife mol
child was mentioned. Therefore am
an orphan, dependent upon those who
are strangers to me in blood for the
love that shelters me, for the wealth
that has hedged me in with comforts
from my cradle up. | am
not the person whom you lOved-not
the person whom, two short days ago,
believed myself to be.
"Should Myra Clark, orphaned and
without inheritance-her very birth
loaded with doubt, and her hold on any
liv ng thing uncertain-still claim the
faith pledged to Myra D., the heiress
No; like the rest, l resign this last and
most precious hold on the past. You
are free-honorably free, from all re-
sponsibility arising from the faith you
plighted. OF all my past life, have
nothing left but the simple name of
Myra."
This is but an extract of Myra's letter
to Mr.. Whitney, but it was enough to
satisfy her delicate sense of honor. 1t
set him free. 1t relinquished all claim
upon his faith or his honor.
Much there was In the letter to melt
and touch heart like his, for with a
great secret swelling in her breast, she
found consolation liz pouring out the
feelings that oppressed her, where she
was certain OF sympathy.
And Whitney answered the letter.
He had not loved the heiress or the
lofty name-but Myra, the noble
minded, the lovely, the beautiful. If
she was an orphan, so much the better
he would be family, wealth, the world
to her. He grieved for her sorrow, but
seemed to revel and rejoice in the idea
of having her all to himself. This was
the tenor of Whitney's reply, and Myra
felt no longer alone-her elastic nature
gathered up its strength again.
she became proud OF the pure and
holy love winch only grew brighter with
adversely, and this beautiful pride re-
kindled all her energies.
Among the fine scenery which lies
upon the upper portions of the Delaware
Bay, there is a splendid old mansion
house, large, massive, and bearing deeper
marks of antiquity and arisIocratic
ownership, than are usually found in a
country where dwellings that have with
stood the ravages OF hundred years
are seldom to be found.
1t was a superb country place, up
lifted above the bay, and commanding
oEe OF the finest prospects in the whole
country. Picturesque and broken scenery
lay all around. Portions of this scenery
were wild, and even rude, in their
thrifty luxuriance, while close around
the dwelling reigned the Lost perfect
cultivation. Park-like groves, lawns
fripged with choice shIubberies, ana
glowing with a profusion of flowers,
might be seen from every window oil
the dwelling.
The stables, lodges, and other build
ings, all in excellent repair, bespoke a
degree of prosperous wealth, and luxu
rious taste, seldom found in our primi-
tive land. A spacious veranda that ran
| alrong the front commanded a beautiful
view of the distant bay and all the
broken shore, for miles and miles on
either hand.
In the whole State of Delaware could
not have been found, at that day, a
gentleman's residence more perfect in
itself, or more luxurious in its appoint
ments To this house Mr.. ID. took his
family to spend the summer months,
and Myra entered it, for the first time
in her life, with a feeling of profound
| loneliness.
This noble mansion was to have been
her inheritance; she had spent all her
girlhocd in the shadow of its walks; she
| had learned to love every tree and
| flower and shady mock that surrounded
ito love them as the home of hel
parents, the home that should hereafter
shelter her and her children.
Now she entered it sadly, and with a
feeling of cold desolation. Transient
certainly, but very painful were these
natural regrets.
But amid all the shadows that huns
around her path, there was one CLEAN
of golden sunshine. His love was left
to herbs faith still remained firm and
perfect.
With the visitors who ca ne with Mr.
D. to his country dwelling. was q die
tant relation of the family, his wife, and
two lovely children. To these persons
the secret Of Myra's birth was made
known, and to the lady, young and ap
parently amiable, Myra sometimes hec
for counsel and sympathy.
But to these persons the secret o
Myra's pareptage opened new and seifisl
hopes that forbade all genuine friend
ship for the con6ding girl. Myra
severed by all ties of blood from ths
family that had adopted her, nov
seemed only an obstacle in the way o
their own interests
| The excessive love still expressed fol
her both bv Mr.. ID. and his angelic wife